


Somewhere Between Heaven and Hell

by Sairyn



Series: Shadoworld Series [2]
Category: Suits (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Angels & Demons, Angel Harvey!, Demon Mike!, First Kiss, First Time, Getting Together, M/M, Marvey Fic Challenges, Mythology References, Pining, Slow Build
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-14
Updated: 2016-05-14
Packaged: 2018-06-08 09:14:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6848527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sairyn/pseuds/Sairyn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Michael James Ross was eleven years old when he sold his soul to darkness. He was a child, too young to consent. The contract should have instantly been null and void.</p><p>When the Devil comes for his due, Harvey must fight to save Mike’s soul. But he might lose more than his heart in the process.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Careful What you Wish For

_Mike Ross wants a do-over. When he was eleven years old his grandmother came into his room and told him his parents weren't coming home. That changed his life. But what he did after she left his room that night would change his entire world. After his grandmother had hugged him tight, making a promise to take care of him from that moment on, she left him alone and he made a wish._

_"I wish my mom and dad would come home.”_

_Someone, or something was listening. Later, when the room was still bathed in darkness, Mike fell asleep and he dreamed an angel came to his side. Her voice was soft, her eyes gentle. Her long fingers stroked across his face and pushed his hair away from his forehead._

_"What’s the matter?" she asked._

_"My mom and dad died; they had an accident." Tears fell once again._

_"Shhh. It's okay, little one," she soothed. "Did you want them to die?"_

_"No!" He quickly answered. “I don’t want them to be dead."_

_Her eyes sparkled. "No?"_

_"No,” he said, broken and battered by exhaustion. “I would give anything to have them back."_

_"Anything, sweet boy?" she asked one more time._

_He looked at her then, really looked. She was wearing a white dress, had long blond hair and eyes that seemed to glow. Mike remembers feeling safe with her, like he could trust her with anything and everything. She smiled softly, waiting for his response._

_"Anything," he answered._

_"Make your wish, I'll make it come true, remember you asked, when the Devil comes for his due." Her sing song voice sounded like a lullaby. Mike felt his eyelids grow heavier and the dream started to fade. He could just make out her last whispers before drifting off. "So shall it be."_

_When Mike woke the next morning he felt like he had been asleep forever. "Get up, sleepy head," his father's loud voice boomed from the door. "We've got to get home."_

_Mike jumped out of bed and started to get dressed. He didn’t remember his grandmother telling him his parents had died; he didn’t remember the strange dream with the angel. And he wouldn’t for several more years._

_***_

_“Katrina!” A voice boomed. "What did you do?"_

_"I granted a wish, Louis. Why are you so upset?"_

_“I heard it was to a child!” He sputtered._

_"Why does it matter? I only did what I am supposed to do- grant wishes."_

_"Katrina, a child can’t make a deal. It’s against our laws. You should know that. We could be called up to The Council and potentially lose more than just this one boy, it could cost us thousands of souls.”_

_“Maybe he won’t be so innocent,” she pleaded. “Maybe if we wait long enough and quietly lead him in directions away from the Light, it won't matter.”_

_Hiss. “You better hope you are right or there will be more than Hell to pay."_

_When Mike was fifteen his mom succumbed to breast cancer. The loss hit him hard, but even worse was his father. One month later, his father, never having recovered from losing his wife, took a bottle full of pills to “ease the pain” and never woke up. This left Mike Ross alone with only his aging grandmother to finish the job of raising him. He wanted to do better, go to college to pursue his dream of becoming a lawyer, but after meeting his new best friend Trevor it became easier not to care, to be lured into taking the easy way out. But things were about to change and choices had to be made. Mike was about to remember that fateful wish he made twelve years ago._

 

 ***

 

Harvey is sitting at his desk when he hears a knock on his office door. He looks up to see a pair of broad shoulders darkening his doorway. Santo Dimas, Guardian and friend, waits for an invitation. “Dee Man- what you doing in my neck of the woods? Slumming?” Harvey laughs.

“No, maybe I just want to come see an old friend. Besides, I thought your office welcomes both Sinner _and_ Saints.”

“Yeah, yeah, that’s the company line. Now get in here and tell me why you are really here. How are the Guardians? Still keeping tabs on your favorite Caffrey?”

Dimas crosses the threshold, stopping to stand in front of Harvey’s desk. He’s got a worn file folder in his hand. “All good. We miss you out there. You were one of the best.”

“Still am,” Harvey smirks.

“Yeah, you know it. As for Neal, I got him set up with someone; Peter from the midtown office. Hopefully he will stay on the right path now.”

“Peter? How did you do that- Caffrey’s not his usual type of case.”

The man smiles broadly, showing pearly white teeth. “I called his wife. She has a kind heart and a soft spot for lost souls. Plus he can't say no to her.”

“You sneaky bastard.” Harvey chuckles. “So this is a social call?”

“Not quite.” Dimas hands Harvey the file.

“What’s this?”

“Something that I thought would be right up your alley.”

Harvey’s eyes narrow. “You know I don't do that anymore.”

“I know, but look. This one is special. It's a case that was flagged about twelve years ago.”

“Twelve years? You’ve been sitting on this all that time?” Harvey asks indignantly, opening the file.

“Don’t get your feathers all ruffled. It has been pending for twelve years- it only went hot today.”

“Michael James Ross.” Harvey reads, flipping the pages. “What did he do?” When the other man doesn't answer immediately, Harvey looks up.

With a small groan, Dimas answers. “He made a wish. He unknowingly made a deal.”

“He what? Why are you bringing this here? You know we can't intervene if a mortal made a willing choice.”

“He was a child at the time. He didn't know what he was doing.”

“Then its null in void. Case closed.” Dimas looks away then, unable to meet Harvey’s eyes.

“What aren't you telling me?”

“It’s a little more complicated than that. Just read it over, will you? That's all I am asking. He should be coming through sometime today.”

 ***

Mike leaves their dingy apartment with a cup of coffee, a suitcase full of weed and directions. The meet is taking place at the Chilton Hotel. When he arrives Mike silently wonders who does a drug deal in a swanky place like the Chilton. He nervously pulls out the scrap piece of paper from the pocket of his jacket, reading over the details of where to go next. Of course with his memory he doesn't have to double check, but it gives him something to do while he makes his way there. Despite his best effort to convince himself it is just a case of nerves, he can't shake the feeling that something is wrong. By the time he reaches the room, he is really nervous and seriously considers leaving. But then he remembers the bill for his grandmother’s care. Mike swallows his fear and walks through the door.

“I hear you are waiting for a delivery?” He nervously croaks out to the gentleman in front of him; a short balding man with large eyes.

“I am,” he answers, an evil grin spreading across his face. “I have been waiting for you for a very long time.”

“Sorry?” Mike asks, a bad feeling settling into his bones.

“Nothing to be sorry for. Open the package. Just have to make sure it’s all there.”

Mike places the briefcase on the small desk and opens it up to display its content. The man looks over what’s inside and picks up one of the large bags of weed.

“Payment. Please.” Mike speaks softly, swearing to anyone listening, that if he can just get through this today, he will turn his life around tomorrow.

“About that,” the man sneers. “Do you remember making a wish when you were eleven years old, regarding your parents?”

Lost memories wash over Mike in a wave; crashing through his skull with blinding pain. He closes his eyes but he can't stop the visions from flashing behind them. His grandmother coming in to tell him his parents have been killed, him crying out into the night, the dream about the angel and him making a wish.

“You wished for something, we made it happen. Now I am here to collect **our** payment. Michael James Ross, the Devil has come for your soul.”

He hears it then; the strange lullaby. ‘ _Make your wish, I'll make it true, remember you asked when the Devil comes for his due.’_ The room begins to spin. Before Mike can brace himself, he feels his body fall as the world he knows fades to black. When Mike wakes again, it is to the sound of voices.

“Louis, that contract is not binding- he was a minor when it was constructed.”

“And I am telling you despite the fact that he was a minor when he made the initial deal, he didn't actually seal it until today. And he is no longer a minor.”

“It doesn't matter. A minor has to fulfill certain prerequisites before a contract is considered enforceable. Legally, a minor is regarded as not having sufficient capacity to understand contractual rights.” Mike mumbles groggily.

The voices immediately stop around him and Mike pries open his eyes. He recognizes the short balding man from the room at the Chilton, the other man he knows he has never seen before. Because despite the fact he feels like he has just been run over by a freight train he is aware enough to notice how attractive he is. _Not now, Ross,_ his brain supplies.

“Can someone tell me what the hell just happened?”

The unfamiliar man looks over at him. “Nice use of words, kid, considering your circumstances. You want to tell me how you know contract law? There is nothing in your file about you being a lawyer.”

“Yeah, you might want to answer that, minion. Not that it matters. The law also states ‘if the minor turns 18 and doesn't cancel the contract within a reasonable period of time, the contract will become binding and enforceable.’” The short man, the one Mike recognizes, sneers.

Mike sits up gingerly to take in his surroundings. “First, I am not a kid, I’m 23. And I only became aware of the contract this moment so that should render that argument moot. And secondly, I know a lot of things.” He points to his head. “Eidetic memory. As for knowing law, I passed the Bar. Now that I have answered your questions, what about mine. Where am I? And how did I get here?”

“You're here because you made a deal with the Devil. And now it's time to fulfill your part of the contract. Up. You're coming with me.”

“Stay put. Louis, he’s not going anywhere. You can't take him. We need to get this sorted out.”

“Do I need to remind you that I have a contract and he received the benefits from said contract- his parents did not die that night.”

“Yes, but they still died,” Mike interjects.

Harvey turns to look at him. “Kid, everybody dies. And don't interrupt- the grown-ups are talking.”

“You had four extra years with them,” Louis reminds him.

The pang of that statement hits Mike in the gut.

“Besides…” Louis continues. “It's not like we collected him when he was eleven. He had years to go in a different direction. Free will, Harvey- isn't that the ground rules that both sides must abide by?”

“I’ll do it.” Mike mumbles.

“What's that?” Harvey asks.

“I said I’ll do it; whatever it is.” Mike repeats.

“You heard him. He agrees to uphold the contract. So if you don't mind, I will be taking my charge with me.”

“Louis, shut up,” Harvey yells, turning to look at Mike.

“For someone with your intellect you are being really stupid. ‘It’ as you so eloquently call this, is the fight over your immortal soul.”

Mike looks up then, his eyes growing wide. Whether from fear or confusion, he isn't sure.

“Yeah, you heard me. You agreed to one dumb ass contract when you were not fully informed, don't go repeating the same mistake now. And besides…” Harvey says, turning his attention back to Louis. “The contract is still not enforceable.”

“What in the afterworld is going on here?” Mike looks up to see a tall black woman entering the room, a stern look upon her face. He is immediately wary.

“Jessica, Ally here thought he could enforce a non-enforceable contract.”

“It's Allocer.” Louis spits. “And your golden boy here...oh wait- not so golden these days are you, Samael,” Louis says with an evil grin which makes Mike uncomfortable.

“Alright, enough!” Jessica steps in. “Louis, Harvey, in my office, now. You…” she says, taking in Mike for the first time, making him gulp. “Stay here. We are not through with you yet.”

When they have gone, Mike briefly contemplates trying to find an exit, but his thoughts are interrupted by a fiery redhead walking through the door. “I wouldn't do that if I were you.”

“Do what?” he asks innocently.

“Yeah, lying doesn't really work with me. But nice try. Besides, trying to walk out of this office without permission is a one way ticket to a place where your soft features wouldn't go over so well.”

“And who are you?”

She looks at him, as if debating. “I am known by many names, Kormir, Bath Kol, Goddess, which is my favorite by the way. But you can call me Donna.”

“Oh….kay. I’m Mike.”

“Yes, I know. Quite a day you're having, wouldn’t you say, Mike.”

“Now that's an understatement.”

“Well sit tight. I’m sure it won't be much longer.”

“Uh, Donna. Can you tell me wh…”

“No.”

“But you don't know what I was going to ask.”

“I am Donna, I know all. And the answer is still no.”

“Then can you at least tell me what’s going on? That Harvey guy mentioned something about my soul.”

“Well, technically, that is what this is about, but trust me that's only part of this conundrum. By the time it all plays out, it's going to get way more interesting.”

“Spilling secrets again, Donna?” Harvey asks, walking back in.

“Never, boss,” she smiles, turning to leave.

“Uh huh,” he answers. “You, get up. We have work to do.”

“Work? Wait. Can someone please tell me what is going on here? I think I have been patient enough,” Mike yells, his frustration bubbling over.

“What is going on here is the fact that when you were eleven years old you made a wish. You were taken advantage of by an upstart demon who granted your wish- in exchange for your eternal soul, setting this fight in motion.”

“But what about that whole minors can't enter in contracts thing we talked about?”

“Yes, well, this isn't the mortal world and despite the fact that laws were broken, you haven't done much with your life since then to sway your case. Drugs, fraud? Kid, your rap sheet reads like a lesson for what not to do when you get everything you want.”

“Just so you know, I am not a drug dealer,” Mike says solemnly.

“The six pounds of weed in your briefcase beg to differ.”

“I just needed the cash. My grandmother needs to go to a nursing home. I want her to go to a better one than a state run facility, and that requires more money than I can make as a bike messenger.”

“And you thought this was a good way to get cash? Humans, always thinking that good reasons can outweigh bad decisions.”

“Dude, I still have no idea what you are talking about. Humans, mortal world? Where the hell am I?”

“First, don't call me dude. And in answer to your question- when you stepped through that hotel door with your ‘delivery’, your soul crossed over to a different realm. Here, souls either pass through on their way to their final resting place or for those in question go through a council which determines what realm in Heaven or Hell it will reside in. And that’s just this branch.”

“Am I high? I must be high. Wait, am I dead? Oh God, please don't let me be dead.” Mike panics.

“Relax kid, you are not dead, at least not yet.”

“So you are telling me I crossed into some supernatural dimension and into an office that determines if souls will go to Heaven or to Hell? Oh, and that the devil is real.”

“The greatest trick the devil ever pulled was convincing the world he didn't exist.” Harvey smirks.

“Seriously? Did you just quote the Usual Suspects?”

“What, don't tell me you never saw it?”

“Dude, that's like a classic.” Mike answers, glad for the moment of levity.

“What have I told you about calling me dude?”

“Yeah, I think I have earned some leeway, considering my day.” Mike stands then, finally convinced his legs will hold him. He looks at the man in front of him. Tall, broad, with brown hair and eyes; dressed to the nines in a very expensive looking suit and shoes. _And don't forget attractive_ , his mind supplies.

“Can I go home?”

Harvey sighs, dropping his eyes briefly before looking back at Mike. His voice is soft when he answers.

“I don't know, Mike. Right now let's focus on what needs to happen next.”

It’s not like Mike didn't know that was going to be the answer. He knew it from the moment he walked into that hotel room. A sense of ‘this is your fucked up life, time to pay the price’ passed through him as he crossed the threshold. A shudder runs through him. _I will not break down, not here, not now._ _No, now is the time to gather more information._

“Okay, then answer me this. Who or is the better question what are you? Wait, is this Purgatory?”

“I’m Harvey. And no, you are not in Purgatory; that’s one floor down. Look, I know this is a lot for you to take in, but I have got a feeling about you. If we play our cards right, you may get out of this yet. Right now we need to prepare to plead your case to the council.”

Mike notices Harvey seemed to skimp on his answers. But for the moment, Mike feels he can trust him. “Are you a lawyer?”

“I’m a lot of things,” Harvey answers sullenly.

Mike can’t help but notice the almost sad way those words sound. Maybe they have more in common than he thought. Harvey grabs his arm and leads them both away from the office.

“Where are we going?” Mike asks, suddenly nervous.

“File room. Time to do some research.”

When they pass through the simple door, Mike is shocked to see a large, no, an enormous room lined with file cabinets. “Are you fucking kidding me?” Mike has never seen so many files in his life.

“This? This is just the last century or so,” Harvey tells him.

Vertigo once again attacks Mike's senses and he wonders just what in the world has he gotten himself into.

Harvey looks at him closely and a look of concern passes over his features.

“Hey, are you okay?”

“Yeah, sure. Um, maybe can I have some water or something?”

“Have a seat over there. I will be right back.”

When Harvey returns, he drinks quickly from the tall glass, trying to quell his rising panic.

“Hey, slow down.” Harvey’s hand finds his and pulls the glass away. “Mike? Michael, look at me.” And something about the way Harvey says his name makes him pause. Mike’s blue eyes meet the brown ones sitting next to him. Harvey reaches out and places his hand on top of Mike’s and something happens. He can't explain it, he doesn't understand it. But a feeling of warmth and of calm washes over him; seemingly radiating from the man next to him.

“I promise, Michael. It's going to be okay. I need you to believe me.”

And in that moment Mike does. He knows down in his bones that this is someone who can be trusted with his life and with his soul.

“Okay,” he answers softly, unwilling to break the connection.

Harvey brings over a stack of files. Mike tries to help by reading anything and everything that remotely focuses on minors and deals and contracts complete with notations. As they hit the three hour mark, Harvey’s phone buzzes.

“Time to go.” Harvey states frowning.

They pack up and Mike follows Harvey to a large courtroom. He watches as Harvey pleads his case. Mike is blown away listening to Harvey argue, providing point and counterpoint against Louis. It reminds him of a boxing match. He is so engrossed in the law-like proceedings he forgets they are literally discussing his future or lack thereof. No matter what tactic Harvey tries, there is just no getting around the choices he made while he was living and, truth be told, most of them weren't good. Mike rises for his verdict.

“Your honor,” a voice calls out from the back. Mike turns around to see the woman from earlier, walking gracefully towards the judge, folders in her hand. “I have an executive order as it relates to Michael James Ross. May I approach the bench?”

“Proceed,” the judge says. Mike watches the stunned faces of both Harvey and Louis and gathers things like this are not routine. She hands over a file and Mike grabs Harvey’s arm, terrified of what may happen next. The judge reads silently, her eyes flitting across the page. She looks briefly at Jessica when she is finished before leveling a stern stare at him. “It appears you have some very powerful friends, Mr. Ross. The deal is accepted. The defendant will be remanded for a sentence of two years in the services of the Dark. Case closed.”

“Deal, what deal?” Mike asks loudly.

“Shh,” Harvey whispers.

With that Jessica turns around and hands Harvey and Louis both copies of the order. “Mr. Ross,” She says addressing him. “Welcome to the offices of Geudge, Mint and Daye.” With a pained smile she walks back out the rear doors.

“Yes!” Louis exclaims, gathering up his things. “Sorry about your loss today, Harvey, better luck next time. I will see _you_ first thing tomorrow morning, minion.”

“Harvey, can you _please_ clue me in on what just happened?” Harvey waits for the “courtroom” to empty before turning back to Mike and answering.

“You got off easy.”

“But I don't want to go to Hell, I don't care how long it's for. Oh God, is my skin going to turn red? Am I going to sprout horns? Oh my God, Grammy is going to be so disappointed in me.” Mike panics.

“Calm down. You’re not going to Hell; at least not today. You are going to be a low level demon for the next couple of years though.”

“Wait, what? But I thought...”

“Look. We needed a backup plan just in case things didn't go our way. I took the liberty of contacting some old friends of mine; called in a few favors. Mike, your potential is greater than your past; we just need the right people to see that. There is no doubt that you made some bad choices, but you are also smart and there is still good within you. We are always looking for talented people here and honestly, your mind could come in handy. You will work on cases regarding questionable souls and provide insight as to why they should fall on your side. Forget about what you think you know about right and wrong; very rarely are things completely black and white. Put in the research, make your case and prove your arguments. But it won't be easy. You’ll be tested at every level. The opposition will try to destroy you and your credibility to prove their side is right.”

“Will I at least get to work beside you?”

“You’re a demon now, Mike. For the next two years, you will be working against me and others on my side.”

“And what does that make you?”

“The guy that just saved your soul.”

 ***

They walk out of the courtroom and into yet another office. A beautiful young woman with exotic features sits behind a desk, typing away on a computer. Harvey raps on the wall to get her attention.

“You busy? He needs a quick orientation. Think you can handle that?”

“You need to ask?” She gets out of her chair and comes to stand close to Mike. Her scent, something close to jasmine, attacks his nose.

“Hello, handsome.”

“Watch yourself Mike, she’s a succubus in training,” Harvey warns.

“Now, Harvey, don't go scaring the fresh meat. You know I am not allowed to use any of my training on co-workers,” she pouts.

“Uh huh, tell that to Logan in the Brooklyn office.”

“He doesn't count; he’s all the way in Brooklyn,” she says innocently.

“Just behave, Rachel, I know first hand how dangerous your kind can be.”

“I promise I will be on my best behavior.” She turns her eyes toward Mike then and smiles; slow and easy. It instantly does something to Mike’s insides. Heat pools in his belly. She is captivating and he can't help but feel drawn to her.

“Mike, catch me at the end of your day,” Harvey calls out, walking out of the office.

After a moment, Mike remembers to answer. “Huh? Oh yeah, of course.” With Harvey gone the room suddenly feels ten times smaller and hotter. He’s dizzy from the pressure.

“So gorgeous, what did you do to get here?” Rachel purrs.

“It seems I made a wish.”

“Sounds yummy. Want to whisper it in my ear?” She asks seductively, moving in closer.

And he’s tempted, oh so tempted. But something about the way she asks makes him pause. He looks at her, meeting her gaze straight on. “Something tells me I better not.” And just like that, the pressure disappears.

“Smart answer. Shall we get started?”

“Was that a test?”

“Maybe. Now follow me. Oh, and you may want to take notes.”

Rachel leads him through the area of the office he will spend most of his time to a small desk within a row of cubicles. While they walk, she tells him about the various practices within the branch, how to determine the difference between Guardians, Nymphs and Shadow Walkers, the realms of Heaven and Hell and the hierarchy of Demons and Angels. Needless to say, school did not prepare him for this. After the tour she hands him a stack of forms to fill out including the one that outlines the terms of his deal- complete with blood sample. By the time he is done, he is overwhelmed, exhausted and starving.

“Are we done yet?” He asks, unable to keep the slight whine out of his voice.

“One last stop. And I see you didn't take my advice to take any notes. Don't bother asking me any questions about anything we went over today.”

“Don't worry, I won't.”

“Uh huh,” she replies as they walk back into the area he remembers waking up in. They stop at a large corner office encased in glass. Harvey is sitting behind the desk. Rachel knocks softly on the door jamb, not crossing the threshold.

“Harvey, I brought him back as requested; safe and sound,” she says softly.

“Thanks, Rachel.” He pauses then, raising an eyebrow; Mike observes a silent question flowing between them.

“He passed. See you around, Mike.” She smiles, blowing him a kiss.

“Don't just stand there, come in and have a seat.”

“What did I pass?”

“Doesn't matter. Time to call it a day.”

“She was trying to seduce me, wasn't she? She was totally into me.”

“Mike, she’s a succubus demon, that's her job. It had nothing to do with you. She probably wanted to know if you were going to spill any secrets.”

“Totally nailed it. So what happens now?”

“Now, you go home.”

“I get to go home?”

“Yes. If I were you, I would look for a new place to live. I don't think your roommate is as good a friend as you think he is.”

“Trevor? He’s been my best friend since my parents died. If it wasn't for him…”

“Yes, if it wasn't for him, you may not have found yourself here.”

“According to some, I would have found myself here anyway,” Mike says sadly.

“Maybe, maybe not. But either way, you need to distance yourself from him. He’s an anchor, dead weight and you need to drop him.”

“And just how am I supposed to do that, huh? Make a wish and hope the tooth fairy will come to visit me instead of a angelic looking demon? I have no idea how I am going to make a living. According to Rachel I have to be here by nine am and with the whole ‘time is different here bullshit’, I have no clue when I will get to leave or how I am going to work as a messenger to make any money to eat, live, let alone move. And I still can't take care of my grandmother.”

“You do realize you have a job now.”

“Wait, you guys pay?”

“Haven't you heard of labor laws?” Harvey smirks. “Never mind, don't answer that. You are employed here. You will receive compensation for services rendered.”

Mike’s stomach rumbles. “Any way I can get an advance then? I kinda haven't eaten all day.”

Harvey opens up a drawer and pulls out an apple. He quickly throws it to Mike who bites into it greedily.

“Thanks.”

“Look, there are some rules you need to know about since you will still exist as part human.”

“Part human. Like a zombie? And what kind of rules?”

“Not a zombie. You are a demon now; a low level one, but a demon none the less. Rule number one. You can not, I repeat, not tell anyone about what you have seen or heard, about what you are, or any part of this. If you do, you will be in violation, and your deal will be revoked immediately, sentencing your soul to damnation. I’m serious Mike, no one. Do you understand?”

“I get it. The first rule of fight club is you don't talk about fight club.”

“Exactly. Secondly, while you are under our services, your mortal body can't be killed. You can still be hurt, but you can not die until you have served out your sentence. We added that clause about century ago to prevent those who couldn't adjust from committing suicide. Just know if you try, when we bring you back, and we will, you will go straight to whatever level of Hell deemed appropriate.”

Mike looks at the half eaten apple in his hand and can't help but think about the symbolism and his circumstances. Suddenly, he isn't so hungry anymore and tosses it in the trash.

“Thirdly,” Harvey continues pulling something out of his desk. “This is your elevator key. When you come to the hotel, make sure you enter a service elevator. Slide your key into the slot. A new set of symbols will appear. Choose the one with the scales of justice. That will bring you here. Lastly, did Rachel go over the dress code?”

“Yes. Though I still don't know why I have to dress up, it's not as if I will see anyone. I mean, why would anyone care what I wear?”

“Thats where you are wrong. No matter what side you are fighting for, you should always look good doing it. Any questions?”

“How do I get out?” Mike asks nervously.

“Take the elevator to the lobby. Go home, get some rest. When you wake up tomorrow, your first thought will be that this was just some wild dream. Trust me, it's not. Keep your head down and your nose clean. Your two years will be done before you know it. This is your last chance rookie, use it wisely.”

Mike nods and walks out of Harvey’s office to the elevators he vaguely remembers passing on his tour. When the doors close, Harvey picks up the phone and makes a call securing a transfer for one Edith Ross to be relocated to one of the finer elder care facilities in the city; all expenses paid. When he hangs up, he sees Donna leaning against his door a smug look on her face.

“What is it Donna?”

“Oh nothing. Who were you talking to?”

“No one.”

“Nice try. You do remember I know everything, right?”

“Whatever. That was nothing. We can't have him walking around all worried about his last remaining family when he is supposed to be working.”

“Uh huh,” she says smiling. “Careful, Harvey, your wings are showing.”

 ***

Mike doesn't know what he expected serving his sentence in the underworld would be like, but never in his wildest dreams did he think it would be like having a “job” job. The next morning he feels like shit. He has a mother of a hangover, and has had the weirdest of weird dreams. But when he finds the elevator key card next to his keys, fear grips him. _Oh Shit_. He contemplates not going, just not showing up. But somehow, no matter how many times he tells himself this “thing” didn't happen, he has to know, has to be sure. He grabs his bike and rides to the Chilton to prove to himself he isn't crazy. When his key card slides easily into one of the slots in the service elevator and a second keypad appears, he knows he is fucked. And so begins his new career.

Mike gets up, puts on a suit (he has bought a few more after his first paycheck and after getting a nasty email from his boss’ boss Jessica about dress code). He sits at his desk or retreats to the file room to do research on why some poor schmuck should either go to Hell or stay in Hell. Those are the easy days. He quickly learns they are the exceptions. Month six, he runs into his first real dilemma.

“Louis. Not everyone who makes bad choices is a bad person!” He repeats.

“Mike, Mike, the road to Hell is paved with good intentions.” Louis smiles.

“She was trying to do the right thing!”

“Hell is full of good meanings, but Heaven is full of good works." Another voice chimes in. Mike looks up to see Harvey swaggering down the hall. It's the first time he has seen him since that first day.

“See? This was good work,” Mike pleads.

Harvey takes the file Mike is waving around and reads it over. “She killed her boyfriend.”

“She was trying to protect her kids!” His voice climbing a little louder.

“Yeah, see, that doesn't really count. There are just some acts that can't be excused. Ever heard of mortal sin? This is a slam dunk for our side.” Louis gleefully tells him.

“Seriously? What about the welfare of others? She put herself in harm's way for them.”

“Sorry kid,” Harvey chimes, handing back the folder.

“I don't believe this. You both sit up here and pass judgement on unsuspecting people, not once knowing what it's like to live in their shoes,” he yells, stomping off.

Harvey finds him a few hours later in the back of the file room. Mike is sitting on the floor, with three highlighters in his hands, surrounded by a fan of files.

“Hey.”

Mike doesn't even bother to look up, recognizing Harvey’s voice. “What do you want?”

“I just want to check on you.”

“It's not like you even care. You didn't even fight for her.”

“That’s not true,” Harvey says softly.

“It is true. You sit up here, all righteous, deciding who gets to go to Heaven and who has to suffer in Hell- never once thinking of the consequences of those left behind.”

Harvey is silent a moment. “Up,” he says, apparently coming to some decision.

“Where are we going?”

“School. Grab your shit and meet me in my office.” He walks out then before Mike can say another word. Thirty minutes later, after having suffered through a spit swearing dressing down by Louis, Mike meets up with Harvey. He follows him out of the Chilton and into the cool evening air. They both are quickly ushered into a car and begin a slow silent ride.

“Are you going to explain…”

“Not now kid, we are in public.”

“Still not a kid,” Mike murmurs under his breath. “I turned 24 a few months ago.”

“Happy belated birthday,” Harvey replies, obviously hearing Mike’s hushed words.

They stop at a large building. “Where are we?” Mike asks, instantly concerned.

“Get out of the car. We are here.”

“And where is _here_ , exactly.”

“My place.”

Mike steps out into the night air. “Sorry if my hesitation bothers you, but the last time I walked into a strange building, I was told I made a deal with the devil and I was being sentenced to work in Hell.”

Harvey smiles then. A real smile that scrunches up his nose and shows the crinkles around his eyes. Mike could stare at it all day. _Hmmm_ , that should worry him, but then Harvey is speaking to him again, refocusing his attention.

“When’s the last time you have had a home cooked meal?”

Mike doesn't answer. He just silently follows Harvey into an elevator that seems to go up forever. When they arrive at the penthouse, Mike can't stop the whistle that falls from his lips.

“How much does a place like this goes for?”

“Above your pay grade, junior. Grab us a couple of beers, I am going to change.”

“Hey, I thought you guys couldn't drink, with all that mortal sin and stuff.” Mike calls out, heading to the kitchen. He pulls out a couple of long necks. He places one on the kitchen bar and takes the other with him onto the balcony. Mike can't believe the view. He’s so high up he can barely make out the street below; it's almost as if he is floating among the stars. He’s so enthralled he doesn't hear Harvey approach until his voice floats in behind him.

“I never claimed to be a Saint. Don't get caught up in dogma.”

Mike turns around and it takes a moment for his brain to compute the picture in front of him. If he thought the view out on the patio was breathtaking, it is nothing compared to Harvey, who is now wearing a worn pair of jeans and a soft long sleeve shirt- and who is barefoot. His breath catches a bit before he remembers to breathe.

“Hope you like fish. Salmon is in the oven. Come on, let's go back inside. You can set the table while I get the salad together.”

Once again, Mike follows dutifully, fetching and retrieving everything the will need under Harvey’s instruction. After they have both had their fill, Harvey grabs them two more beers and they retreat to the couch.

“You want to tell me why you spend so much time in the file room?”

Mike takes a long pull, giving his brain a chance to formulate an answer that makes sense. “Sometimes it just feels weird in my section. Everyone is walking around smiling, happy, not seeming to care that they have just sentenced someone to Hell. I don't like the way I feel there. I know you warned me that I would be tested, that it wouldn't be easy. But I didn't think it would make me question my own beliefs, or that it would wear on me like it does.”

“That's because you are new, you still have your humanity. Some of the people you are working with have been doing this for millennia, while others were born into it. It doesn't make them bad people. You can't have good without bad. There is a balance in the universe and we all play our roles.”

“What about today? That mother is going to end up going to Hell, a deal sealed by the act of protecting her children. It doesn't feel right. Yes, she did a bad thing, but it was for a good reason.”

“Do you know how many people make bad decisions for good reasons?”

“No. But still. What about her children? You are telling me your side is okay with sentencing a mom to die, send her soul to Hell and leave her children alone in a fucked up world?”

“You keep thinking this is about that one act. Do you know what she did before then; the choices she made that put her in this position? How many times she may have put her children in harm's way? It's called free will, Mike.”

“But it's the children that suffer the most; they didn't get a vote.” Mike sighs.

A moment of silence passes between them before Harvey speaks again. “Remember when I told you that everything isn't always black and white?”

“Yes.”

“This is one of those times. Sometimes it is the innocent that suffer. The choice for them is what happens after. Will this be the beginning of a better life, or a wasted one blamed on circumstances and excuses.”

Mike thinks about that a moment. “I wish I had chosen differently.”

“Sometimes we all wish that.”

 ***

 Ever since that night, Mike routinely finds his way to Harvey's office under the guise of needing space, or air, or even light. In the beginning he would stand patiently at the door, waiting for a formal invitation or approval from Donna, whichever came first. Now, almost a year later, unless Harvey is in there with someone, he stops by Donna’s desk to drop off his payment- an extra light caramel flavored coffee concoction with whip, and walks into Harvey’s office to work. The banter is easy, even if they are working on opposite sides of the ledger. Sometimes he wins and sometimes he loses. Truth be told, Mike is always glad when his side loses; it gives him hope for his own redemption. Harvey and Mike have been working in compatible silence for a few hours when Harvey’s intercom crackles to life.

“Incoming,” comes Donna’s voice. Mike looks up to see Louis striding into Harvey’s office like a man on fire.

“Harvey, I need to talk to you about something.”

“Not now Louis, I’m busy.”

“Oh yeah? Then can you tell me what he is doing here if you are so busy.” He spits, glaring at Mike on the couch.

“Well, lets see, Louis,” Harvey remarks, briefly looking up from his desk. “I think he is working. Like I am doing; like you should be doing.”

“I can see that. But why is he doing it here?”

“You do realize ** _I_** am right here and can hear you both, right?”

“Whatever. You,” Louis says pointing at Mike. “Go back to your area.”

“What difference does it make where I work as long as you get results? And if my memory serves, my numbers are better than those of all your ‘staff’ put together.”

“That's not the point,” Louis sneers.

“Careful, Louis, I think I might see a tip of horn trying to poke through that thick skull of yours,” Harvey chides.

Mike watches Louis’ eyes go wide briefly as he reaches to rub his head to check. Mike chuckles. “What’s got your panties twisted? Afraid he’s going to turn on you?” Harvey continues.

“He can't do that. You realize you can't do that, right? We have a deal and you have six more months.”

“Don't remind me. But if it makes you feel better I will head to my office.”

“Fine. Oh, and Mike, good job by the way on your numbers. Lots more souls going to Hell now that you are here.”

Mike feels sick to his stomach. He tries not to think of those he has helped send to the realms of Hell as he walks away. He plants himself in his cubicle and puts in his earbuds. It isn't until he feels a tap on his shoulder that he realizes several more hours have passed.

“Why don't you call it day?”

“Louis will kill me if I don't get this done.”

“You do know he literally can't kill you, it would nullify your deal,” Harvey snickers. “Come on, pack up your things.”

“Where are we going?”

“Dinner. I’ve got the game taped.”

“Really?”

“Hurry up before I change my mind,” Harvey says walking away.

It becomes routine then. A few times a week, Mike works in Harvey’s office where they debate philosophy, fate and choices. And a few times a month they grab dinner and spend the evening at Harvey’s, watching movies. It feels comfortable, right and something else. Something Mike is not willing to even speculate on. He looks up and sees the man in question pouring over paperwork and smiles to himself. _Shit, Mike thinks. He’s crushing on Harvey. Nah, surely not. I mean sure he admires, respects, but like- like Harvey with his soft brown eyes and commanding demeanor, no. Besides, he’s a demon, and Harvey, well if Harvey is what he suspects he is, Mike is absolutely certain any type of relationship between the two of them would be highly frowned upon- like mortal sin sort of frowned upon_. So caught up in his inner monologue, Mike doesn't notice that someone is walking into the office until she speaks.

“Harvey.”

Mike looks up and sees a petite woman with dark hair and even darker eyes. She’s smiling, but something about it feels wrong to Mike. He quickly takes a glance at Harvey and can see the man stiffen slightly as he looks at her. Mike goes instantly on alert.

“What are you doing here, Scottie?”

“Didn't Jessica tell you? I am here with Darby. We are now the leaders of the London office and your sister branch. I thought I would come by to see if you would like to celebrate.”

Mike has been here long enough to recognize evil within people and this woman, whoever she is, has it. She smiles then, and Mike can feel it; the pull of seduction, of desire. Its taint floats in the air, replacing the oxygen. This is nothing like his moment with Rachel. No, this feels deeper, hotter. His dick twitches in his pants, obviously affected. Want flows through his veins. A small hiss escapes from between his lips before he can stop himself.

Her head turns quickly at the sound. “And who is this?” She asks, her voice soft, sinful, like the glide of warm honey across skin. Mike licks his lips trying to ignore the effects. She stares at him openly, wantonly, and Mike can feel himself falling.

“My name is Mike,” he says, breathing through his mouth, trying to ignore the rampant desire coming off her in waves of heat.

“How cute. It actually can speak. Well, Mike, I’m Lilith. But you can call me Scottie, or-” she says slowly skimming her eyes over him from top to bottom, “...anything else you want.”

Mike whimpers. He’s about to say something he knows he shouldn't, but stops when what appears to be a beam of light illuminates the room and he hears Harvey’s voice rumble.

“Leave. Him. Alone. Mike is off limits.”

Her eyes go wide and a devilish smile spreads across her face. “Interesting.”

Harvey takes a deep breath and just like that, the room returns to normal. “Do you actually need anything or are you just here to stir up trouble?”

“Why, to stir up trouble of course, but I see you are busy. Although he does seem a little young. Still smells... human. Anyway, I will be in town for a few days if you want to catch up on old times, Sama....”

Her words are cut off by Harvey’s voice, rife with controlled anger. “I don't think so. Now get out of my office.”

She slowly glides up to the front of the desk and leans over, showing off her curves, fully displaying to Harvey what he is turning down. “Careful Harvey, you wouldn't want to trip and fall again. Then again…” she pauses to look at Mike once more before turning back to face Harvey, “... maybe you do, but know you wouldn't be falling alone.”

“You know, Scottie, they say the loveliest angels make the cruelest demons. And sweetheart, you used to be beautiful before you were sent to Hell.”

“Well, Harvey, let me clue you in on a little secret,” she whispers seductively, “Your fall was not by accident, you were chosen to be damned.” With that, she turns and shoots one last pointed look at Mike before blowing him a kiss and sauntering out.

Mike immediately leans over and puts his hands on his legs, dragging in deep lungfuls of air trying to clear his head. “Wow,” he pants. “What in the world is **she?** ”

“Damnation.”

“And you and her were an item, I gather?” He says carefully.

Harvey’s glare speaks volumes. “Right. I’m just gonna go work in my office and leave you to it,” Mike says, tripping over himself on his way out the door.

Donna walks in to see Harvey leaning against his windows. “Well, it's always a party when Hell comes to play.”

“What do you want Donna? And why didn't you tell me Scottie was here?”

“Because I asked her not to,” Jessica answers, walking into the office. “I was on my way to tell you myself, but it appears by the sickening stench, she got here before I could.”

“What is this all about, Jessica?” Harvey demands.

“Why, mergers and acquisitions of course,” she answers innocently.

“Bullshit. Donna, would you mind leaving us for a moment?” Harvey not so subtly demands. Harvey levels a glare at his boss.

“Jessica, I don't know what game you are playing, but this has your **true** name written all over it. There is not one good reason for bringing that...that woman back.”

“Then you should also know I have no problem starting a battle to win a war. And I brought her here to remind you of how your choices can come back to haunt you. I’m not blind, Harvey. I’ve seen the way you look at him. How does that line go? Love is overrated; biochemically no different from eating large quantities of chocolate.”

“I knew I should have never let you watch 'The Devil’s Advocate'. As for how I look at him, that’s crap. He got a raw deal. I’m just trying to help.”

“A raw deal? So what. So do half a million other people. You want to give him a chance? Fine, give him a chance. Stay away from him. Let him serve out his sentence and let him go.” She turns to go then, her words hanging in the air like dead weight.

The next time Mike comes into Harvey’s office, Harvey sends him away saying he is too busy. The next time Harvey is ‘just leaving’. It doesn't take long before Mike gets the hint. He stops going, unwilling to subject himself to being rejected yet again. He has only six months left on his sentence left anyway. It’s not as if he misses Harvey, except he does. He misses him in a way he knows he shouldn't. More than a friend, more than a mentor, more like a lover. Which is ridiculous, he knows. All those moments they have spent together, there has never been a hint of something more, despite how much Mike wishes there was. Well, except for that one time, when Scottie came to visit. There was something about Harvey going feral and protective that made Mike think that maybe he felt something too. But that was ages ago.

Donna is packing up her desk for the night. She looks up to see Harvey standing at the window, his back to her, glass of scotch in hand. “It is getting late, boss, you heading home soon?”

She gets no reply. “You know, you avoiding the world isn't going to change the facts,” she states matter-of-factly, walking into the office.

“I don't know what you are talking about.”

“Don't you?”

Harvey’s shoulders flinch briefly. “If you’ve got something to say, go on and say it.”

“How long have I known you?” She asks, pouring herself a glass.

“Since before,” Harvey answers, turning around to the sound of tinkling glass.

“Exactly. I was there when Lilith came; before the fall. You have paid your dues, Harvey. Do you think it is meant for you to be alone throughout time? I see you struggle against having those feelings, fearing they make you weak. How can you, Samael, one of the original seven, be afraid to love?”

“Donna, this has nothing to do with fear. Can't you see this is about love!” He yells.

“And what about him? Does he not get a choice?”

“I’m doing this **for** him. Jessica is right. Do you know what would happen? He would lose his soul forever. A relationship between a demon and an angel? There is no precedent for that pairing for good reason; it is forbidden. He deserves a chance to go back to his life once his sentence is complete and forget he ever walked into our world.” Harvey gulps down the rest of his drink. “It doesn't matter what I may or may not feel.”

“You are a very stubborn man. But know this, there is nothing forbidden about love.” She finishes her drink and walks out the door.

***

Mike doesn't know how he got to Harvey’s place. After hanging up the phone, his brain intuitively knew to bring him here; back to the only place left in the world he feels safe- Harvey’s. He pounds his fist on the door loudly, desperate for anyone to right his world. Harvey answers, looking perturbed.

“Mike? What's happened?

Oh yeah, he’s been crying. He can tell by the wet that stains his face and his eyes that feel swollen.

“She… she is gone.”

“Who is gone?” Harvey asks.

Mike doesn't want to say it. Doesn't want to make his mouth form the words. Because then it would be real, it would be true. If he can just..

“Mike, please tell me what’s happened?” Harvey whispers, tugging him inside and leading him along the corridor with a hand on the small of his back before making him sit down onto the couch. Mike feels the seat dip as Harvey sits besides him.

“Grammy…” Mike sniffs out, his voice sounding foreign and distant.

“I’m so sorry, Mike. I know how much she meant to you.”

“She raised me after...after. Wait Oh God, please tell me, Harvey…” Mike panics as he realizes what this might mean. “Tell me that her soul… that I won't have to fight for her soul to be banished into... Just please tell me she won't go to Hell.”

Mike feels two fingers beneath his chin lifting his face up. His blue eyes lock with soft brown ones full of concern. “I promise, Mike, her soul will not be in question. She will pass through into the Light, no questions asked.”

Mike sighs in relief, then breaks down into another fit of tears. He feels strong arms pull him in close and soft words being murmured in his ear. Mike wants to curl up inside of them and hide from the world, safe in the arms that surround him. He doesn't know how long they stay like that, but after a while, Harvey is standing, pulling him up from the couch.

“Where are we going?”

“Come on, I have a spare room. I’ll get you some clothes you can change into.”

Mike shuffles into the room and starts to undress, exhaustion taking over. “Harvey?”

“Yes?”

“I never said thank you.”

“For what?”

“For taking care of Grammy. I remember when she was moved into the new place, I asked how. They told me that the transfer and payments were being handled by the firm, but I know it was you. I’ve always known.”

“I don't know what you’re talking about.” Harvey smiles leaving the room.

Mike falls into the sheets and prays for dreamless sleep. Unfortunately for him, the universe has other ideas. He spends what feels like hours tossing and turning before he fumbles out of bed, intent on walking to the kitchen as quiet as possible to get a glass of water. He doesn't make it. Because as Mike walks past the patio, he sees Harvey, shirtless. He is leaning on the rail looking up into the night sky, his lips moving silently and flaring from his back are wings the color of snow, three feet wide. And despite knowing what Harvey was from day one, nothing could have prepared him for the sight of him in all his glory, right there in front of his eyes. Mike doesn't know how, but apparently his feet take him to where Harvey is standing, because within seconds he can feel the night air on his face.

“Harvey.”

“Mike. Are you okay? Did something happen?” Harvey looks worried and Mike can see his wings shimmer with iridescent color.

“Couldn't sleep.” He drops his head, all of a sudden not feeling worthy enough to look at the Angel in front of him. “You're breathtaking.”

“You're not supposed to see these.” And just like that, Mike watches Harvey’s wings shimmer and disappear.

“Doesn’t change anything. You're still breathtaking. To me.” Mike holds his breath, fearing he has said too much.

“Mike…” Harvey’s voice laced with regret, starts.

“It's okay Harvey, you don't have to say anything.” Feeling the first blush of rejection, Mike turns around and heads back to his room and shuts the door. He falls into a deep sleep, dreaming of angels. In the morning he wakes to find Harvey has already left and he is alone in the condo. He wants to go back to sleep, to forget everything that has happened in the last twenty four hours; the news of his grandmother’s death, crying on Harvey’s shoulder, the immediate realization that he has somehow fallen in love with Harvey and the crushing blow of Harvey not feeling the same.

Six weeks pass, and they never once talk about that night. Mike keeps to himself, working mostly in the file room. He is in the home stretch now, four weeks and counting. Of course that's when things go south. Mike is sitting at his desk when a shadow stretches across his view.

“Puppy! Where have you been?” Donna scolds.

“Puppy?” He says confused.

“It seems to fit since there was a time when every time I looked up you were sitting at Harvey’s feet like a puppy.”

“Somehow I don't think that is a compliment,” he murmurs.

“Well, take it as you will,” she answers flippantly.

“And as for where have I been? I’ve been working; here mostly.”

“And why is that?” she asks, cocking her head to the side.

“It's just easier. Besides, I am sure Harvey doesn't want me hanging around up there anymore.”

“What makes you think this is about Harvey?”

“Ohhhkay, then what is this visit about?”

“It's about you standing up and not taking the easy way out anymore. Time to make your choice, young padawan.”

“I don't have any clue as to what you are talking about.”

“Well, when you figure it out, I expect to hear a profound thank you. And besides, if I don't get my coffee delivery service back, I will be very cross with you.”

“Is that your way of telling me you miss me?”

“Please, I can have ten of you at the snap of my fingers. But if you insist on coming back to visit every so often, I would like a dash of cinnamon added to my coffee going forward. And by that I mean starting tomorrow.” She flounces off then, and Mike smiles.

Mike works in the file room the next day, and the next after that. It's the only way he can do research under the guise of working. Day four after Donna’s visit, he steps into the other side of the office, basking in the warmth of light. He wants to remember this feeling; to be able to call upon it when he needs to, because he is sure if all goes the way he has planned, he will never see it again. Upon reaching Donna’s desk, he dutifully hands over his offering- her requested coffee and walks into Harvey’s office.

Mike sees Harvey pouring over yet another file of some lost soul. “Harvey?”

“Yes,” he answers not looking up.

“I was wondering if maybe you could help me with something. You know, since I only have a few weeks left on my sentence.”

“Can't you get someone else to help you with that?” Harvey answers gruffly.

“Harvey, look at me.” The man in question raises his head. Mike can see it then, the eyes that look beyond tired and the sunken in cheeks. It makes Mike’s heart literally hurt to see him like this. He takes a deep breath and continues.

“You were the first person I met here who gave a damn about me and my soul. Those people I work with could care less if I do this right. I think they are secretly hoping I do something wrong, so I will be stuck in here forever. I trust you. I wouldn't ask, if I had some other person…”

“Fine. Where do you want to start?”

“Can we do this later. At your place?” _Please say yes, please say yes,_ Mike’s brain is screaming.

“Fine. Be there by seven and not a minute later.”

“Seven, got it. I’ll see you there.”

Mike walks out the office trying his best to remain calm and not pump his fist at this small victory. He catches Donna’s eye on the way out. He mouths ‘thank you’ at her wry smile. She nods in return.

Mike takes a deep breath as he stands at Harvey’s doorstep. I am ready for this, he tells himself. Its seven on the nose. He knocks loudly.

“Well rookie, part of me thought you wouldn't show.”

“You haven't called me that in almost two years.”

“Get in here. Have you eaten?”

“No, but I am not hungry. I’ll take a drink though.”

“Beer?”

“Got anything stronger?” Harvey quirks an eyebrow, but pour them both a glass of whiskey none the less. Mike wanders over to the couch and waits.

“What’s this about?” Harvey asks, handing over the tumbler.

Mike takes a quick swallow, relishing in the burn that travels down his throat. “Well, I have been doing some research. Did you know that most people who get caught in between do not get to go back?”

“I might be aware of that,” Harvey scoffs, taking a sip from his glass.

“And did you know that those very few who do are stripped of their memories?”

“Yes.”

“Seems kinda unfair don't you think? I mean, here they get this second chance and they can't remember how close they came to losing it all. Talk about being defenseless. What's to stop them from repeating their mistakes.”

“First, that clause was put in so that they could go back and not go blabbing off around town about supernatural beings. We learned that lesson early on, too; remember the Salem Witch trials? Secondly, not all memories are stripped, just those at the forefront. The subconscious mind keeps fragments. Ever had a feeling of deja-vu or a gut feeling? Thats your subconscious memory bumping up against something similar in the present. Some people listen to it, some don't.”

“But what if there are things I don't want to forget? Like you.” Mike captures Harvey’s eyes then, trying to tell him all the words he doesn't know if he will be able to say out loud. Harvey looks away first.

“Mike, it’s not that simple.”

“Not everything worth having is.”

When he gets no response, he continues. “Fine. Can you at least tell me why you have been avoiding me?”

Harvey finishes the last of his drink. “I haven't been avoiding you, I’ve been busy.”

“So busy you're not sleeping?”

“What makes you say that?”

“Have you looked in a mirror lately? You look like shit. And there is some part of me that thinks I’m to blame; that it is my fault.”

“Of course not!” Harvey answers, getting up from the couch to refill his glass.

“Harvey.”

“Mike, if this is why you are here, you need to leave now.”

“I will not leave until I have done what I came here to do.”

“And what is that? Torture me? Remind me that you will be gone in a few weeks?”

“Dammit, Harvey! I came here to tell you I love you.”

“Get out. Get out right now,” Harvey yells, walking out onto the patio.

Mike takes a deep breath and follows him, stopping at the door. Harvey is leaning over the rail. Mike can’t help but remember the last time he saw him out here- his wings billowing bright in the night air. How beautiful he was then; how beautiful he still is. Mike had known then it would come to this. Sure, he could take the easy way out, knowing by this time next month it wouldn't matter, that he would not remember feeling this way. But this time, he doesn't want to. This time, he wants to do the right thing, for the right reasons, no matter the sacrifice.

“No. I won’t leave. Because I know the truth in my heart of hearts. You feel something for me.”

“You don't know shit.”

“Don’t I? I’ve done my research. I know who you are.”

“Then you know why this can't be. I will not be your destroyer.”

Mike crosses through to the outside and comes to stand next to Harvey. “That night I was here, when my whole world was falling apart around me. I saw you then, saw the real you, and it made me whole.”

“Mike, please…”

“You, Samael; Warrior of God, one of the seven Archangels, Ruler of the Fifth Realm of Heaven. Fallen, flawed, noted to be both good and evil. You, Harvey, have been my champion.”

“I see you’ve done your homework.”

“You know, I also read in one version that you were castrated by Lilith,” Mike jokes.

“Don't believe everything you read,” Harvey smiles warily.

“Then answer me this. Can you tell me you feel nothing when you look at me?” Mike reaches out and grabs Harvey’s chin and turns his face so he can look in his eyes. “Nothing when I touch you?” Harvey closes his eyes and leans into Mike’s open palm still resting against his cheek.

“It doesn't matter. You have no idea how hard this is for me. I would give up my wings, give up Heaven itself for you. But I'll be damned if I let you give up your soul. Michael, you carry the name of an Angel, you should have a chance to become one.”

Mike moves in closer; so close they are sharing the same air. “It’s my choice. Free will, remember? I love you Harvey, and I would gladly give up my soul to be yours. I’d rather spend eternity in Hell with you by my side then reside in Heaven without you.”

“You can still walk away. Please,” Harvey begs, closing his eyes. “Please don't ask me to do this. I will not be the reason you are dammed. ”

“I’m not asking.” Mike licks his lips and tilts his head a little before pressing his lips against Harvey’s. It's soft, chaste and only serves to further fuel his desire to make Harvey his own. Harvey tastes like an oasis in the middle of the desert and Mike is thirsty, so thirsty. He reluctantly pulls away, fearful of what might happen next.

Harvey’s eyes lock with his own. “You have no idea how much I have been fighting this. How much I want you.”

“Then stop fighting.”

“Mike…” The words fall like a prayer from Harvey’s lips and Mike leans back in. This time their kiss is not chaste. Mike groans his way into Harvey’s mouth and laps at Harvey’s tongue. Harvey's arms come up to pull Mike in closer, making Mike moan low and deep. Mike reaches up, curling his fingers around Harvey’s neck. He feels like he is drowning and he doesn't care. They pause briefly for air and Mike can't help but bite his lip and smile at the man in front of him.

“I’m in love with you, Harvey. I want to spend eternity with you. I don't care where or how.”

“It just might cost you forever.”

“You’d still be worth it.”

Harvey takes hold of Mike’s hand and leads him to his bedroom. They undress each other slowly, savoring this moment as if it might be their last. Soft kisses blend with hushed sighs as they hold each other close. Wandering hands roam fluidly, filled with a desire to learn every inch of soft curves and hard lines. With a sigh and a gasp, their bodies join. Mike swears he hears angels weeping. They make love tenderly, slowly, like rolling waves; moving in sync. Murmurs of love are pressed into each other's skin as they reach for that perfect moment, that final crest. And when they tumble over, surrendering to their climaxes, each others names fall repeatedly from their lips. Content in surrender, they float together in oblivion while sleep threatens to carry them both off.

“What do you think will happen tomorrow?” Mike asks, stifling a yawn.

“I don't know, and frankly I don't care. I am never letting you go.”

Mike feels the brush of Harvey’s wings covering them, protecting them from whatever impending storm is on the horizon. “Good, because I’m yours- forever.”

“I love you, Mike, and I always will,” Harvey whispers, drifting off.

These are the last words Mike hears as sleep drags him under.

 

**************************************************************

 

When Mike wakes the next morning he is at his apartment in Brooklyn. Trevor is yelling at him to get up.

“What, what happened?"

“Dude we got high and drunk last night and passed out. Come on get up, you said you would make that drop for me today.”

“Man, I was having the weirdest dream. Something about an angel or a devil, one of the two, and then there was something about Heaven, Hell and choices.”

“What the fuck are you talking about? Are you still high?”

“Nah man, I’m cool. Just some crazy dream. Don't sweat it. Let me get dressed and call Grammy real quick to tell her I will be by later.”

“Tell her I said hi. Oh and you're going to the Chilton.” Mike stops short. Something about that sounds familiar to him, but he can't place it. Almost like the dream he was having earlier.

“You ready?” Trevor's voice interrupts his thoughts.

“Yeah, let me grab my bike helmet.”

Mike arrives at the Chilton and walks through the lobby heading straight to the service elevators when a voice stops him.

“Sir. You can't use these. These are for employees only. Please use the patron elevator.” Mike sees a young man walk by him wearing a suit, carrying a briefcase. He pulls out a key card and enters the empty car. He briefly looks at Mike, with eyes that appear to be red and softly glowing. It gives Mike the chills.

“Sir,” the voice calls out again.

“Yeah, sorry. My bad.” Mike finds his way to the regular elevators, the briefcase feeling heavy in his hand. He knows he shouldn't be doing this, but what will happen to his grandmother if he doesn't? When the elevator chimes on his floor he gets off. The hallway is long but not empty. He passes a bellhop on the way to the room, but something about him seems off. Mike can't put his finger on it, but something about this whole morning feels big, as in, this is your life big. He wants to ignore it, but he is having a hard time shaking the feeling. Just as the bellhop, with a radio? he thinks, passes him by, he decides to take the exit door to the stairwell. Mike quickly bounds down the steps to the floor below and nearly collides into a tall African American woman.

“Oh, I am sorry. I didn't meant to run into you like that,” he says apologetically.

She looks slightly annoyed, Mike surmises. “Don't mind me, I’m just looking for an angel with a broken wing,” she says bitterly.

He’s about to ask what that means when he hears the bell hop radioing behind him in the stairwell. Mike quickly darts through another door.

“Rick Sorkin?” A redheaded woman asks.

“Uh, sure.”

“You're late.”

“Sorry?”

“Go in. Don't make me regret this.”

“Thank you.”

“You're welcome, Mike.”

Mike is through the second door before he realizes she called him by his real name. Before he can think to hard about that, the man sitting at his desk comes around extending his hand.

“Harvey Specter.”

Mike grasps the hand firmly and a shock goes through him. He can tell that the other man feels something too by the quick almost gasp he makes and the way his pupils dilate. Mike licks his lips and can't stop the overwhelming feeling of fate crashing against him. “Mike... Mike Ross.” he answers before he can stop himself.

“Mike, nice to meet you,” Harvey manages, their hands still grasped.

Mike smiles then. Because in this moment he knows he is exactly where he should be- next to the man in front of him. He can't explain it, but he definitely believes it.

 

 

 


	2. Epilogue

Somewhere in the shadow world an Angel and a Demon are having a drink.

“Well, we brought them together. Think it will work?” Donna asks.

“It did for us,” Jessica answers.

“No precedent my ass,” Donna giggles.

 

**Author's Note:**

> LEGEND:  
> Santo Dimas: St. Dismas- also known as the Good Thief or the Thief on the Cross.
> 
> Louis: Allocer- demon whose title is Great Duke of Hell, and who has thirty-six legions of demons under his command. He induces people to immorality and teaches arts and all mysteries of the sky.
> 
> Harvey: Samael- Angel of death and Prince of air. Believed to be both good and evil. Known as an accuser, seducer and destroyer. He is one of the seven archangels, the ruler over the Fifth Heaven, and commander of two million angels.
> 
> Donna: Bath Kohl- Angel of Prophecy; inspires the gift of clairvoyance and encourages truthful communication. Immortal, Goddess of truth.
> 
> Jessica: Astarte- Queen of spirits of the dead; Warrior Goddess; connected with fertility, sexuality, and war. 
> 
>  
> 
> For Marvey Fic Challenge- Supernatural. Thank you Aqua for Beta!! Come by and say hi on tumblr... [ sairyn-noc](http://sairyn-noc.tumblr.com/)


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